


Knowing me, knowing you...

by artisan447



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-19
Updated: 2007-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisan447/pseuds/artisan447
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin knows what he wants, and he's told Chris what he wants. Hasn't he? Just a bit of silliness about mis-communication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing me, knowing you...

"Asshole," Vin muttered under his breath, then froze as the slim figure stopped and went rigid in the break room doorway.

"You say something, Tanner?" Chris bit out as he turned slowly, his eyebrows dragging down into a painful looking scowl.

"Ahhh...I..." Vin stuttered, mind going completely blank. Had he really said that out loud?

Apparently he had.

Fuck

"Chris, I ..." he trailed off, hesitating. He was pretty pissed off, that much was true, but he really hadn't meant Chris to hear that.

The idea was to gentle him into listening, not get his back up, and damn, that was probably the end of using the drive home tonight to make progress. Given the look on his partner's face right now, he'd be more likely walking home than making progress.

"Look---" he started when Larabee just stood there, stiff as a six-foot plank, the expression on his face a ridiculous mix of hurt and indignation.

Ok, fair enough, no one liked to be called an asshole but Chris didn't really have any right to be indignant. Not when he'd been so unreasonable; stubborn bastard hadn't really played fair. All week it'd been the same thing, he'd had his say but hadn't once really listened to a single word Vin said. He just kept steaming along, taking Vin's agreement for granted, even when he tried to say otherwise.

Maybe it was time he stopped pussyfooting around and just spoke plain and simple.

"Look," he said again, "I know you think you're doing the right thing, but it's not---"

"I thought we sorted this out last night?" Chris interrupted, sounding exasperated now, and fucking hell were they really doing this all over again -- Chris cutting Vin off, pretending as though everything in the garden was rosy, acting like if he just kept on going in the same direction, Vin'd follow along like a halter-broke mustang?!

Well fuck that. Vin put his mug down with exaggerated care and pushed away from the bench.

"I know that's what you thought," he snapped, giving up on calm and reasonable, "but you ain't been listening to a goddamn word I've said, and the only place anything got sorted is in that stubborn, overbearing head of yours. Where the hell you ever got the notion I was some kind of lapdog you just have to go through the motions asking what I want is beyond me."

"What?" Chris was bristling now, his face rearranging itself into the sharper angles and planes he normally reserved for low-life crims and high-end brass, and Vin stopped. Okay, maybe that'd been a bit over the top, but sometimes the only way to get through to Chris was to shock him into submission.

He had his mouth open to drive his point home when a movement over Larabee's shoulder solidified into Ezra in the doorway.

"Ah," Ezra said as he stepped into the room, "it must be afternoon break time."

"Not now!" Chris snapped not even turning his head and Ezra paused, not going back or forward, just allowing the silence to draw out.

C'mon Ezra, Vin thought, trying to force him into motion through sheer power of will, we got a situation here, just back away and no one'll get hurt...

Like that was going to happen. The chances of Ezra retreating from something that had even the remotest chance of providing an opportunity for snark was about as likely as Christmas in May. When he opened his mouth to speak, Vin held his breath.

"Quite." Ezra spoke in a soft drawl, and his eyes slid casually from Vin to Chris and back. "I'll come back later and collect the bodies, shall I?"

"Ezra, so help me---" Chris's head whipped around, but Ezra was already three-quarters of the way out the door -- at least he had a good sense of self-protection.

Vin's mouth started to twitch and he controlled it with an effort as Larabee slammed the door shut and shot the lock then spun back toward him. If he smiled now there'd definitely be at least one body that'd need collectin', that's for damn sure.

"Look," he tried, gentler now, the tension broken. "I'm gonna be blunt, 'cause God knows nothing else has worked so far. But you've gotta cancel that meeting." He threw up a hand as Larabee opened his mouth to interrupt.

"No. I've been trying to say this all week and now you're gonna listen to me, goddamn it."

"Vin---" Larabee was frowning again as he took a step forward.

"Fuck," Vin muttered and let his eyes slide closed. He'd never thought of Larabee as a talkative man, but now he'd pay good money to get him to just shut the fuck up.

"Chris," he looked up and maybe his desperation showed on his face because Chris paused and raised an eyebrow. And for once, didn't say anything.

Vin blinked when he realised he had Chris's full attention and sucked in a deep breath. "Look, you know I respect your opinion and most of the time I don't have no argument with what you got planned for the ranch, but I gotta be honest and say I think you're making a big mistake here. I know Royal's offer is damn tempting, but..." he paused for a few seconds searching for the exact right words and then cleared his suddenly dry throat. "That foal's gonna be something special, Chris, I just know it. And if we sign those papers tomorrow there'll be no going back. The last three years we've been right on track, done whatever we needed to set up the breeding program for the long-term and I'm not gonna let you throw it away now we're on the verge of the best thing yet. To get the chance to put Bonnie with a top stallion like that was the best kind of luck, but it ain't gonna matter a damn how good that foal is if at the end of the day it's growin' up in someone else's barn."

"But the money..." Chris started, then trailed off mid-sentence. He looked puzzled but Vin didn't have time to do more than wonder what the hell he could possibly be confused about.

"We can do without the goddamn money, Chris," he shot back, clenching his hands into fists. "Royal's not stupid. He's done his research and I'll bet you anything he figures we're gonna be a threat to his operation somewhere down the track. He knows what he'd be getting with Bonnie's foal and you can bet your ass he's not offering above the going price because we need the money. He's one hundred percent looking out for his own best interests. And why're you so damn fixated on the money all of a sudden anyway? We've been through leaner times that this and it's not like we don't have a regular income..."

He trailed off as Chris's dropped his eyes and the scowl on his face changed into something different, something almost ... relieved.

What the hell?

"Chris?"

He waited as Chris shifted, pursed his lips and finally lifted eyes that were impossibly dark; full of an emotion strong and vital. Vin caught his breath and for a minute neither of them spoke.

"So let me get this straight," Chris finally said. "You don't want to sell the foal because you think it'll be the best thing for the breeding line."

Vin huffed out an irritated breath. "I've only said that a half dozen times already this week, Chris, you deaf or something?"

Chris took a step forward and ... was that a smile tipping the corners of his mouth? What the...?

"No. What you said was that we could use the money," Chris contradicted, stepping right into Vin's personal space.

Well, yeah, he'd said that, but only because he'd been trying to respect Chris's point of view. "I was trying to be understanding," he countered, taking a step back, his eyes fixed to Chris's mouth and his breath catching as Chris's tongue made a slow, lazy sweep across the divot in his lower lip -- the way it did when he was concentrating.

"And you said you wondered what the hell we were thinking taking this on."

"What?" Vin frowned, thinking back over past conversations. "That was last month, just after Peso figured out how to get into the feed bin and almost gave himself colic." With every step Chris took forward Vin took another step back until Chris had him crowded against the wall. "I was havin' a bad day," he managed, voice thin and fragile. God almighty -- he let his head thud back as Chris pressed hard against him, lowering his head to inhale the scent at Vin's neck.

"I thought the best thing would be to sell the foal," Chris's voice was low and deep, his words vibrating against the soft skin at the angle of Vin's jaw and the breath left Vin's lungs in a great gushing whoosh as Chris sucked on the place where stubble gave way to tender skin, mouth trailing around Vin's neck and up the front of his throat, small nips and sucks bringing every inch it travelled to shivering life.

When Chris pulled back enough that Vin could look him in the face they were no more than an inch or two apart. "I thought you'd had enough," Chris said.

What?

"Are you crazy?" Vin retorted, startled, "I never said anything like that..." he trailed off, trying to recall, but Chris had lowered his head again and it was hard to think past the warmth that blossomed over the side of this throat and flooded up and over his jaw.

"And then you said the breeding program wasn't worth squat without a decent stallion," Chris murmured, tongue flicking out along the soft skin near Vin's collarbone.

"I was talking about the foal -- if it's a colt -- it'll be the best..." he managed to gasp out. God how could he concentrate when ... "Fuck!" he swore as Chris shifted his collar and bit into the tender skin at the ridge of his shoulder.

But Chris wasn't content with just moving his mouth over Vin's skin, he was talking too, and as the words filtered through the sensual haze, Vin finally started to understand Chris's whacked out, convoluted logic. "I didn't want to sell the foal either, but I thought at least we'd get enough money so as you could pick out some new stock. Something for the long-term, whatever you wanted."

Chris finally lifted his head away from where it was buried against Vin's throat. He was still pressed against Vin from chest to groin and the intent in his eyes made something deep in Vin's chest clench with desire. He lifted his face and the kiss was soft, exploring and he gave himself up to the pure sensual pleasure that was Chris Larabee's mouth. God, he could do this all day.

When they finally pulled apart, Vin's heart was pounding and he felt a little bit like a schoolboy making out behind the shelter sheds. "C'mon," he said, wrapping his fingers around Chris's belt and tugging him toward the door. "You've gotta go cancel that meeting, and if we spend any longer in here Ezra'll have an aneurysm trying to think up an excuse for breaking in."

"Vin, hold up," Chris said stopping them half way to the door, voice serious. "I should've listened. I'm sorry. I just ... I want you to have what you want."

Vin laughed, and even to his own ears it sounded hitched and breathless.

"You stupid bastard," he whispered back, as his hands settled on Chris's ass and he leaned in again to kiss the mouth that was finally, finally, smiling.

"Don't you know I already got everything I want?"

 

\-- the end --


End file.
